


A Whisper To a Scream

by i_amthecosmos



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Glam Rock RPF
Genre: Casual drinking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Illness, Snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 14:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_amthecosmos/pseuds/i_amthecosmos
Summary: Tommy's good at handling his condition until he isn't. And then he pays for it, in the form of sounds only he can hear.





	A Whisper To a Scream

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2010. I wrote this to work out some of my own issues with mental illness. The hallucinations described are mine. I am not saying that the real Tommy Ratliff ever had to deal with this shit, and I hope he doesn't. Title from the Icicle Works song.

Tommy knew intellectually that not only were the noises that only he could hear harmless, but they were actually kind of beneficial. They were an indicator, a sign that it was time to see a doctor about getting his meds tweaked, or to get more sleep and generally take better care of his health. However, they still scared the ever-living shit out of him. 

Tommy loved horror movies, but living inside one wasn’t any fun at all. There was nothing like it, one minute he would be walking down the street somewhere, and then suddenly the voice of his now-dead PE teacher would start screaming his name as if it was two inches from Tommy’s ear.

Just because it wasn’t real didn’t mean it didn’t freak him out. The first time that happened, he wound up in a dressing room stall in a store, huddled on the tiny little bench, waiting for the voices to stop. They stopped, sure. Then came the banging on the walls, like some big motherfucker was trying to break the door down to ax murder him. He had put his head down, and just waited it out. He stayed back there until some rude-ass salesclerk came to kick him out, no doubt thinking he was on drugs. _Bitch, I wish. My fucking brain does this on its own._ That was a bad day, but eventually the noises stopped and Tommy had some vanilla chai and swore off drinking for at least the next two days.

When he met Adam, he was upfront about his medical condition. He explained what bipolar meant for him on a day to day basis, so Adam would know what to expect. Adam was very sweet and understanding. He talked about the friends he had that had their own little extra brain surprises. “I think it happens more often with creative people,” Adam said and Tommy wanted to say _No shit_ , but he already liked Adam too much to state the obvious.

The record company wanted a complete list of his medications and doctors, which was kinda hard since he didn’t have insurance and had to get help through the state-his fucking doctor could change every month. The suits were reasonably satisfied that Tommy was taking his condition seriously, and cleared him as a good candidate for the job. Tommy remembered smiling at that-see, he was winning. He didn’t lose a job just because he was sick. And that was great, because he really wanted this job.

The first time he had an (incident? Attack? What the fuck do you call a sudden onset of dead people screaming at you?) in front of Adam, he had been up too late and drinking too much, but that was because they were in Cabo. Like, Adam had taken him on vacation with him and his old friends. Tommy was so thrilled to have made it to the inner circle level in six months he forgot to control his drinking and to get enough sleep. Everyone else seemed to be fine, so couldn’t he just be normal for a while?

He was at dinner with everyone, of course, this couldn’t happen when he was alone. They were about three margaritas into dinner and toasting each other again. He had just clinked glasses with Adam when he heard “TOMMY!” screamed as if right next to him, in Coach Wilson’s Jersey accent. Tommy jumped and half the margarita spilled on the table. Everybody looked surprised and Sutan said “Sweetie, if you’re spilling drinks you should go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Yeah, long day,” Tommy repeated, his voice probably a little too loud. He was trying to be heard over the screaming. He looked over at Adam, but Adam was drunk and rambling about something, so Tommy just decided to get the hell out of there. Before he left he saw Taylor look concerned, and like he was about to walk Tommy to his room. Uh-uh, he wasn’t going to explain what was going on, so he left the restaurant right then. He walked fast to their rooms, hearing the banging even when there were no walls around for anyone to bang on. Tommy went straight to his room, shedding all his clothes, and crawled into bed. He would call room service for tea later. But for now, he was hiding under the covers.

(For the record, he had mentioned it to Adam, casually. “Oh yeah, I get auditory hallucinations sometimes, it’s no big deal.” Then he explained that not everyone with bipolar got them, but he was just lucky that way. He’d been so dismissive that Adam was probably under the impression that he was hearing angel voices instead of something that sounded like it wanted to eat him, guts first. So because he wasn’t 100% honest, now he was hiding alone in his room waiting as the banging subsided to knocking.)

 

Wait. That was polite knocking-his brain demons were never polite. Tommy was still shaking, so it took him a little longer to walk to the door, grabbing a robe on the way.“Hey,” he said to Adam. Adam seemed a bit more sober and also a bit frightened. “What’s going on?”

“Hey Tommy, what’s up? You ran out, so I thought I’d check up on you. Are you puking? We can get you some bitters and soda if you want” Tommy let Adam in and he sat down on the chair in the corner. Tommy sat on the bed, running a hand through his sweaty hair. 

“No, I’m not puking, I just-“ Tommy stopped for a second as the thudding started again. “Shit.” 

“Tommy? Tommy, what’s wrong? Taylor said you went white at dinner and left fast, I was drunk, I wasn’t paying attention.” Adam crossed the room and put a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, trying to rub the muscles that had gone rigid. “You’re acting like…you’re scared.”

“I am”, Tommy said, trying to remember that Adam could hear him and he didn’t have to shout. “Remember when I told you I had hallucinations? Like, hearing things? Well, it’s happening right now.” Just then Tommy heard a bang against the door that made him whimper and curl up on the bed. “Fuck.”

Adam just stood there for a minute, watching. Then Tommy felt Adam crawl across the bed until he was right next to him, holding Tommy’s curled up body near his. “What happens? I mean, what are you hearing? Is it bad?” Tommy snorted a laugh-of course it was fucking bad, he wasn’t curled up in terror because of a hallucinated Von Trapp family. 

“It’s mostly screaming,” Tommy said, and Adam squeezed him a little closer. “And right now, I’m hearing banging against the door-it sounds like someone’s going to try to kill me.” Tommy squeezed his eyes shut. “I know it’s not real. I know, it just doesn’t matter, because it’s still fucking-“ he broke off as he heard a noise like the door about to come off its hinges. 

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay. Tommy, it’s going to be okay, stay with me here.” Tommy felt Adam rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re fine, you’re in a safe place. I have to ask, did you take your medication the way you should have?”

Normally, that question would piss Tommy off, but Adam was being honestly concerned, not dismissive.“I did, but I think I drank too much. It makes some meds less affective. I just didn’t want to be the person who wasn’t drinking, you know?” Tommy took a deep breath in, held it for three seconds, and then out for three.

Adam kept stroking his hair.“Tommy, honey, I say this with love. Don’t be a fucking idiot. I need you to do whatever you have to, to stay healthy. Do you understand me? I need you in my band, and I need you as a friend.” Adam moved back just a little so his hands could reach Tommy’s shoulders and rub over them. Tommy let Adam’s hands move over him, still breathing deep. The banging stopped as Adam rubbed over his spine. 

After a few minutes of Adam rubbing him through the robe, Tommy said “Wait,” and shrugged it off, leaving him naked next to Adam. He could feel Adam’s pause even though his face was in the mattress and he couldn’t see it. This was pretty forward-they had kissed, made out a couple of times, and a drunk Adam had given him a handjob at the hotel after a TV appearance. But that’s as far as it went. Tommy turned to look at Adam. “Hey. I’m not trying to get you to pity fuck me. If you’re not into me, that’s fine, and if you are…”

“Yeah?” Adam said, looking over Tommy’s body. 

“That would be great. I like you, a lot. And you didn’t freak out just now, so that’s good. And that whole ‘straight’ thing was overplayed in the media.” That surprised a laugh out of Adam, and as they both giggled, Adam’s mouth came down, touching his.

The kiss was sweet, almost chaste. Adam kissed him very gently, like Tommy could break from rough handling. That wasn’t true, but Tommy saw no reason to stop him. When Adam pulled back, he was smiling, still flushed from the alcohol and a faint sunburn. “That was really nice. “ 

Tommy frowned. “But that’s it?” No way was he going to pretend not to be disappointed, he’d had a lousy night. Sex would be a good way to make it up. Adam nuzzled at his neck, his hair tickling Tommy’s chin. 

“I think we’ll just stick to cuddling for now. Can I sleep here?” Tommy nodded. “Well, then maybe later tonight. But for now, just rest. That had to have been exhausting.” Tommy felt a kiss against the top of his head as his eyes closed. Adam was right. He sunk into sleep, head pillowed on Adam’s chest.


End file.
